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Thursday, February 28, 2013

There was something that I smelled on the sidewalk this morning, and it almost made me cry.I smelled summer.The only reason I hate that season is because when it approaches, it is the worst thing ever. It is a black hole that sucks you up and you lose everything for three months. It seems okay when you're in it, but when it's coming up you want to hide. Or, you know, find a freeze-time button and press it, because if winter lasts a little longer, I'd say okay as long as it gave me more time with this life I've found is beautiful.

There's a reason why I always talk about school life."A house is not a home unless it contains food and fire for the mind as well as the body," said Benjamin Franklin.Yes, what about my mind?So that's why I ran today, I ran and ran until my thoughts caught up with me, so I stumbled through the cold back to the walls in which I am confined.

Endorphins = this chemical stuff that your brain makes to make you happy. Or, you know, stuff like chocolate.I don't sniff sharpies."You know, you can get hyper off of a lot of things," said one of my friends during math today. I was like "Maybe that's just you ..."But it's me, too, and I run around laughing because I'm so happy. Today's been full of good stuff. I try to pinpoint the exact causes, but there are too many.I'm wearing a green shirt. A GREEN SHIRT! Green is basically my favorite color. And the only green shirt I own is a T-shirt that says green on the front. But since I painted it and it looks gross, I only wear it to sleep.So this shirt is half sleeve, my favorite, and it's like ... bright green! See the picture ...

Not all of them, my shirt is the second from right. Sothe one next to yellow that isn't yellow. :P

Anyway, it makes me really happy because it's ... green, you know? I was also happy that I got my present from Nash--colored pencils {SCORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!}, markers {EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!} and a sketchbook! *Hyperventilates*So you see, I'm full of endorphins today. Especially after I drew a tree all over the sketchbook cover {to distinguish front and back because it's oh so super confusing} and it looks good {to me at least. Wow!}. And after I played soccer, and it was so amazing because I actually PLAYED it and didn't just stand around. Back to loving soccer, and back to sitting outside for lunch. It was nice outside, like 48 degrees! WOO!But I did get hit in the fist with a soccer ball. Yuck!

Then I had a counseling appointment, and I'm getting closer to my goal of dual enrolling in both PHS and THS. Also on the bus, I had hilarious and fun talks with my friends, which hasn't happened in a while. So ... pretty much one of those high flying days, where the only thing I don't know is how I was ever down in the first place.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

You know, I've really hated those moments when you realize how stupid/unlikeable you are and then you realize why you get all those strange looks from people you call your friends.Or maybe that's just me.Today somebody told me something about me that I thought I'd fixed. Or maybe it just crept in. I've always thought that it's good for people to know their faults, but when I read someone's opinion about mine, I realized that it's no fun knowing how people think of you. I mean, it's good for you, but there's this little chord in your heart that says Ouch, I thought you loved me!So today is where I take myself to one side and have a Discussion. 'Cause I look in the mirror and think I'm pretty for a moment, but I'm not. I got shot through the heart so many times, and now my guts are spilling for everyone and it is not a pretty sight. So I gotta fix me, somehow.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

"Today's been strange," I wrote in my journal just barely, "but it felt sort of like home."On the bus ride home, I looked forward to talking with Fortune, Kahler, and Liberty, but instead I sat next to Souri. She's not my ideal person to sit next to. She's so nice and sweet and she's always smiling no matter what, but she isn't one of my really good friends, and it's a little strange talking to her because I feel so not Souri ... you know?But I had a good time. We talked about babysitting and for once I had a lot to say {okay, not for once, but you know what I mean}. So the time went by fast while I talked with Souri. And that felt nice.Then on the way to this recognition ceremony for the AMC8 tonight, my mom and I talked about which school I was going to, which is undecided. I ended up in tears like every other time I talk or think about things I'm super passionate about, and I was frustrated. But when I walked into the room for the recognition assembly, Vanessa saw me and ran down the hallway and her in her bright green jeans was good enough for me and I didn't even stumble when we crashed in a hug.So I sat next to Vanessa. Lately she hasn't been my favorite person. Especially because the only class I have with her is PE, so I get to see her be good at everything and make it look easy. But also because she sits next to me during assemblies and starts scrutinizing the cheerleaders {she's so one of them} like "Oh, their round-off back handsprings {insert some crazy cheerleader term} are looking okay. I can do that better than they can though!"But I understand her, more than I understand many people. She and I are so alike, so it's hard to hate her. And especially because I realize how much past we have together, and how much I really do love that little girl who brings brightness to my life. {Like her name.}Especially when we found somebody in the crowd who I sort of knew. He is annoying, I know him sorta personally, and I said he reminded me of this one friend we had last year who moved."Funny," she said. "I don't remember him much at all. I think that should be wrong.""It's funny to think how much you won't miss us next year," I said, still not sure of what school I was going to.I'm still not sure. But it didn't matter, because Vanessa looked at me and said she cried when she thought about it too hard. She prayed for me and the rest of our friends who would be leaving. And no matter if those had been lies, because they felt real, and she grabbed my hand and squeezed it.I squeezed back, and for the remaining half hour or more of the presentations, we were like that. We said nothing about it. We whispered and talked and laughed but our hands were together squeezing.I told my mom how it was hard to decide schools because of my friends. She wondered how friends mattered so much to me. "They're not your lovers, or your husband," she said. Quote exactly. That's my mom for ya.I didn't say anything, because my mom isn't me. I have parts of her, but I have parts of me too.I have my eyes, which looked at Vanessa's hand and mine, squeezing so hard they were both red.I have my heart, which was warm from the kind ones nearby.And I have my mind, which knew enough about the power of friendship and the David Archlueta song to ... well, to look down at those two hands holding on through forever. I felt as strong as the mountains I grew on, as deep as the roots of the tree that is me ... and for a moment there I swear, I couldn't tellwhosehandswerewhose.

If you know me {and you should. VERY well by now} then you know I'm a really artsy type of girl. This is what Wikipedia says about the fine arts:

3Two-dimensional work

3.1Illustration

3.2Painting and drawing

3.3Comics

3.4Mosaics

3.5Printmaking and imaging

3.6Fiber art

3.7Calligraphy

3.8Photography

4Sculpture

5Conceptual art

6Dance

7Theatre

8Film

9Architecture

10Games

So I'm good at illustrating. Not so much painting, but I love drawing, comics ... wait a minute, not mosaics though. We did one of those in sixth grade with paper squares and that was GUH. I have nice handwriting apparently, and lately went through an obsessive phase of leaf-war pictures. Okay. I won a prize for sculpting when I was in first grade, with playdough. That stuff is so gross after you leave it out for a month, PS.

I'm kind of trying to make a point here. I don't know what conceptual art is ... but I love dance, movies, design, GAMES {no freaking duh who doesn't?} and my point: THEATRE!

I haven't been doing much of it lately, but I've always loved improvisation. Which leads into what I want to tell you about. Because my life is a drama and I'm kind of in the middle of it all the time and there are those moments where I'm like "What the heck just happened?!" but I have to improv.

Well, I happen to love improv-ing. Which means that when me and my friend Merida are working on a section in our dance about racing each other to a wall {and trying to hold each other back} and the last eight counts gets to be complete ipmrov, I'm super excited. I danced my butt off {gross not literally} today, which was very exciting. So right now I'm feeling nice about living in a drama. At least it's fun.

Okay, no matter how much I tell Georgie and Danica that there's sort of no person I like right now, I'm sort of wrong. Orqua found out last week that there are actually gentlemen in the world. They are greatly appreciated, but sometimes I find myself drawing towards the mysterious types ...So Seattle slipped me a dollar bill for my birthday, which nobody knows about. There are two words written on it in blue pen in what looks like his handwriting, and I can't decode them but I'm super curious as to what they say. And I didn't want to ask him about it 'cause what if what if he didn't write it? Or what if what if? But today, I hadn't seen him until lunch. So I went up to him and I said "Is it illegal to write on dollar bills?""Yes," said Seattle."Have you done it?" "Yes," again."With a blue pen?""Yes. ..." And then he said something really confusing along the lines of "But I'm innocent, but I'm guilty of it."I talked to him some more. And laughed, and passed notes, and left wondering why I did, because it's crazy how good the sun feels after you've been stuck in the fog.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Just to say something here, but I now have four journals waiting to be used up. That's not counting the one I'm two thirds done with right now, or the one that I finished in November.I'm such a writer.I was talking with my little sister today about journals and she said she wasn't too far into the one she got for her birthday. "There's nothing to write about," she said.Maybe she just doesn't live in my life, or she's not me. Because I'm kind of the person who makes things dramatic ... and lives a dramatic life. I've had a ton to write about, like people and worries and grades and depressions and friends and crushes and flying. I write about flying a lot, actually, so look up!Anyway, I realize that I do write a lot, but lately the depression that I had decided to consume my writing. So sorry for starting on a lighthearted note. That happens a lot, but I find that me as a person can't keep it up. Maybe I should change into a fish or something. What with a 3 month memory span, that might be a little easier.Not that it would make it more fun. You see why I love roller coasters?

Saturday, February 23, 2013

This afternoon, from 2 to 5, I went to the local ice skating rink for a birthday party.Before it even started, I was at the point of tears. Everybody was rushing around looking for stuff, it was snowing outside {crazily} and I was just so frustrated. Finally my mom drove me and Ameli {who, being my next door neighbor, gets a ride to save gas} to the skating rink along with my little sister, who really wanted to skate. So we got there at the same time as Orqua and Georgie did, and we exchanged hugs and I introduced people {Ameli} to the rest {who all knew each other from school}. Gradually more and more people arrived. Finally we had fourteen {counting me and not my sister}, one more than last year {hehe, it's so perfect}:

Ameli

Orqua

Georgie

Kahler

Blaund

Ase

Fortune

Greni

Tangorine

Nash

Danica

Literally

Vanessa

Anyway, we began to skate. It was frustrating because whenever I skate, nobody wants to skate with me. Everybody was splitting into their little groups like they always do, and I'm never EVER in one of these for skating. EVER. So I was a little annoyed but I helped my little sister, and I found that Greni and Ameli, being the only two who weren't in my main friends group {but still my really good friends, I'm just saying like lunch}, were following me. So I made them be friends with each other through helping Georgie, who has never skated.

When Orqua was all alone I went with her. When Georgie was stumbling I held her elbow and screamed at her even though she screamed back that she couldn't do it. But I was lonely inside too, and even my little sister didn't want to skate with me. I started two games of tag, against the rules, and I tried to be slow so anybody who wanted to could catch up. But this never works and never has, so I found myself near tears again. To the point where I found out that my depression had come back, and I really, really, REALLY wanted to end it all. Or go cry in the bathroom, 'cause I'm not brave.

So when it was half time and the zamboni came out to wipe the rink, I stood aside while Literally tried to talk to me. Fortune was sitting on the bench with his usual crowd as always. There was one time when I had stopped talking to everyone. I was standing on The Outside {Taylor Swift}. I stared at Danica until she looked at me. Nash did too, and Fortune caught my eye and waved, smiling. If I hadn't been depressed, I would've grinned and waved back. We've got so many connection sand inside jokes and he's the only one whose eye I'll catch and wave, because he waves back. But this time, my eyes were watering and there were eyes on me, so I looked away and walked, too.

But then came the time we all gathered around the table and Fortune came up with two dollars folded into a box. There was a dollar cone and a dollar ring, and Fortune was red and somebody said something about proposing. "I did it for Blaund and Ase!" he protested. Which made me grin at him and say "You're proposing to Blaund and Ase?! I didn't know that about you, Fortune!" So everybody was laughing and Fortune's face was less pink and I was breathless again, but happy this time.

People left and people went, and I taught Georgie more how to skate. I had a great time. Does it matter what presents I got? I got two journals, adding to the two I got for Christmas and the two I've filled with writing. I'm a writer. And so there are those moments that really strike the heart.

Like when Georgie caught my arm like I did hers through our three falls. "Thanks for pushing me like that," she said. And I thought of how I'd yelled at her and folded my arms and taunted her by skating backwards whenever I said "Now skate to me," and moved whenever she got close. But I grinned back and pushed her, now that we were on solid ground and she could catch herself.

Like when Fortune and I had one of our first real one-on-one conversations in months, which I used to love so much. It's nice to be friendly again.

Like when Vanessa, whom I have a love-hate relationship as a friend, left me a secret message on her birthday card to me, and I realize the love is more.

Like when we tried not to laugh or we'd be out and I was the first out because Fortune said something. Or how somebody would say "I was looking for you."

Like when we blew straw wrappers at each other and I hit Fortune in the forehead, or when Literally managed to spill something like he always does. When Danica wrote her name in frosting on my table. When I hugged everyone after their present.

I swear, I got high off of friends. I'm so happy right now I could die, but I know I don't want to.

Like when Danica grabbed my arm in our last minutes on the ice rink and sang to me along with Jason Mraz. I won't give up.

I blew out my candle with tears in my eyes, because I was gonna laugh or scream or cry. But not die, because my wish was to

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Today, of all things, is my birthday.I woke up in a good mood, which was strange because there hasn't been a good mood for me for the past couple of weeks. I put on my favorite sweater, jeans I love, comfy socks, awesome shoes. I ate a happy breakfast. I walked outside with my birthday party invites in hand and a smile on my face. I sang to myself as I walked: It's been a year filled with problemsBut now you're here almost as if to solve them ...That song is called The Best Thing by relient k. I love that song and it's been on my mind all day. In fact, as I walked this morning I thought Gee, it's strange because yesterday I was crying over depressing Owl City songs and fighting for my life, but today I'm just happy to be me.Turns out I wasn't as happy as could be. I was enthusiastic in the morning, but then I realized that nobody but Kahler knew it was my birthday. I didn't see Georgie {who came over yesterday} but Nash told me to go away for a while and I was suspicious. She said happy birthday, and so did some of my other friends. Fortune was singing the birthday song that was written for me by a couple of neighbors I carpooled with several years ago. I was happy, though.I was happy as I graded papers and wrote a letter to Kahler in reply to the one she gave me this morning. {Finding out later that day that she'd written letters to everyone.} I was happy as I handed out invitations and as my history teacher made everybody sing to me and I blushed blushed blushed.*Or as much blush as I can get. Not muchIn French we watched a movie and the principal came to award me and I felt special and blushing again. At lunch there was a senator meeting that I was looking forward to having Liberty come to. It was nice that Georgie did though and she gave me a fat letter that I read during Science ...when Nash and Danica had done something special.I walked in and there were balloons and streamers on my desk and above it. There was cute wrapping paper all over my desk and the chair. I got sung to as I stood on a stool in the front of the room. This is the first time that something like this has happened to me. I'd been looking forward--holy crap, looking forward--to this at night lately, the time I'm most down. It's funny how I can be so fake-smiley in the morning, but not to my pillow at night.I don't know what's going on with me. I drew fish on the school sidewalk with Kahler's chalk at lunch, and they were cute and smiley with Georgie's help but there's still something WRONG.It must be some sick sort of depression that makes me stare wide-eyed at knives or not be proud that I invited one of the sweetest loneliest girls in our grade to our lunch group like Kahler's been thinking of. 'Cause today I stood at my porch with my arms out wide, balloons in one hand, wondering what it would be like to fall.'Cause maybe I would fly, just for a little bit. Better than feelinglikedirt?

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Ahh ... I feel great today.It's funny how lately I've had so much on my mind yet so little at the same time. I've been so out of it, even though I've been so clearly seeing everything that's wrong.

Today I finally got what I was missing--being relaxed. You know that weekend feeling you get where it's like a dream, but maybe a little clearer? It's that one feeling of home where you can flop around like a fish all day yet still feel like you maybe accomplished something. It's like half-living. But it's living all the same, especially after all the dying I did for the past month.I did math today, and I saw Fortune there, and he took me by surprise and said hi. Then I came home and did some homework, checking off things from my list of weekend stuff to do, and then I ate lunch, which was deliciously warm. I struggled through the first chapter of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and called people to interview them for a project I'm doing. Then I procrastinated my list of stuff to do.I practiced my flute, blah blah blah, read the book some more, worked on my scrapbook with one of my college-grad friends, and then--and then--I ran. I ran a mile, like really RAN the whole thing, for the first time in probably two years. I was kind of dying of boredom starting from the third lap, but I made it and I felt like running more and I'm still shaking slightly but I feel so good. 'Cause it's cold outside and mhmm, I've been trapped in smoke for so long but finally I can breathe again.

Friday, February 15, 2013

There's a phrase that goes like this: I woke up on the right side of the bed. Well, I certainly didn't fall off of my bed this morning, but I did wake up on the wrong side. I was still feeling depressed and lonely and hopeless and horrible. So I spent that morning planning that I was going to tell somebody about the pit of darkness inside of me, so at least someone would know.But then I did my day. I'll tell it to you backwards, because I think it was the first thing that sent me sailing instead of drowning, and best for last.I took a test in math today. Normal people don't like this, but there's something comforting about just sitting down and answering questions. That's why I liked my history test so much yesterday, because there are straightforward answers, unlike life.

During lunch, Georgie was with me the whole time, which hasn't happened lately. We sat and talked by the lunch place for a while, but then we got up and wandered around, settling on a bench by our old Graphics classroom. I got out a folder and paper and a pen and we started writing a list of things we want to do before school lets out, like sing every song off of the album Red on the bleachers {my idea}. Or paint a poster and our clothes. Or take me on the new front runner train thing I haven't been on yet.In PE, we played speedminton. This is a version of badminton that ... somehow, I'm not too shabby at. The best thing was how I played with Danica and we kept yelling at each other trying to get the other person to win. We completely disagreed on points, no matter what really happened, and purposefully gave one another points. It ended when we both hit the birdies into the nets.It was funny then, and it still brings a smile to my face now. I'm like a birdie, flying so high but getting stuck in a net. But somehow, people free me. Thankfully.In English, I sat in front of Seattle. Which I love doing. And before English, I raced Liberty there, which I haven't done in a while. I'm always trying to beat him to things {lunch, English} and it's so cool that I win sometimes, especially tearing down the English hallway through the crowds of high schoolers who give us looks I don't care about in the moments I'm sprinting. He comes from a running family and he's really tall and thin and his backpack is SO much lighter than mine and he isn't carrying a flute, but somehow it doesn't even seem like he's letting me win. And I'm breathless and shaking all through English, but I like it.And on the bus, Liberty and Fortune were talking to me. Or not really talking to me. I was staring out the window, because I started today sad. But then Fortune asked why everybody was staring at the window and Liberty and I secretly decided that we were looking at something. We didn't know what it was when we started Fortune on looking for it. "It's lower," "It's to the right," "Nope," we said every time he'd ask something like "Is it the mountains?" "Is it the sidewalk?"I'd be laughing and whenever his head was looking out the window me and Liberty would share a glance and he would shrug and I would too 'cause we didn't know what we were looking at. But I realized something as I told Fortune that the sun hadn't come up yet, and I turned to Liberty and finger-spelled what we'd been looking at. What I'd been looking at, without knowing it until now. What I felt inside me at that moment, bursting like ... life.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Well, happy Valentine's Day! I'm not sure if it deserves the exclamation point or not. Today's been an interesting day, and I guess I could start by telling you about it.I started pretty okay. I'm wearing a striped shirt that's kind of a mix between a dress and a shirt. The sleeves are stripey and long and the whole thing reminds me of Taylor Swift, but I botch it by rolling up the sleeves to elbow like I do with all long ones, and not being very graceful. Or tall. I'm not Taylor Swift, and my hair was actually perfectly straight this morning. Which was kind of a blessing.I went to my first class, where I TA for my old English/Utah Studies teacher. She's interesting, but today I felt like part of the class as I made announcements, chatted with the students, and wrote odes with them. Well, I wrote one, and stuck it on the door. It's not as funny as my teacher says it should be, but it's sentimental and a little bit quirky and that's what I was going for. It's an ode to her classroom and all of its ... homeliness. It's like a home to everybody because sometimes we like it and sometimes we hate it, but as I wrote in my poem, it's somewhere to return to. Anyway, I liked the poem part. Then I went and took a quiz in my next class, which was kind of funny and surprisingly not hard. Since I finished first I got two extra credit points, and then I left for the assembly. I got to sit in between Georgie and Danica and was chosen to be a spirit leader for my age group, but somehow I ended up having tears in my eyes. Maybe it was the fact that I searched for people I didn't see in the crowd. Maybe it was the fact that I was embarrassed. Or maybe it was the fact that I was just plain annoying and annoyed.Guh.Then I went to French and tried not to cry. We wrote valentines for our partners in French, so I wrote one for mine. It had all the general thank-you for helping me learn French and do activities stuff, and also some notes like I like your shoes, you're quick and quirky and smart. I smiled when I passed it to her and she gave me hers, and I tucked it into my backpack without reading.The funniest thing happened during French. It was one of those strange highlights of my day, and I wrote it down because I don't want to forget it. It was like a precious gift. While we were writing valentines we got out our French dictionaries and I was dejectedly flipping through mine when lo and behold I stopped when I saw something on the word avalanche.

Someone had written, above it, the word strawberry, naming one of Owl City's songs. I almost laughed out loud and a smile broke out across my face. Skimming through the dictionary I found others:lonely lullabyshooting staradam youngAnd I was so amazed that somebody knew those beautiful songs and had written them there and I'd gotten that dictionary. It was nice. And the perfect Valentine's day gift, as I didn't get any. {Other than a note from August and, I guess, bread from Kahler.}Oh. That and the card from my partner in French, which said I was smart and I thought fast, and other stuff I have yet to decipher. It means a lot to me that people I hardly even know do something sweet. So that's my hearts day story. Like how I felt depressed again in Science and nearly broke down crying but decided to join Danica and Nash and other people in their group to make a mobile. Danica agreed heartily when I leaned into her and said "I want stars on mine."And I taught Danica and Nash how to do their calculations for Force Effort and Distance Resistance and things like that, which I didn't have to do. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did, because I felt like making someone smile.If I can't at least someone else should be able to!

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

What should I blog about? I wondered today. I thought about what had happened today. Nothing much actually, except that I had subs in two classes and--we played kickball with the boys in PE!There's actually not really an exclamation point, since nothing exciting happened. I am not a good kickball player. Thus, I decided to be a good sport instead, and started clapping and cheering for both sides, while failing at kicking the ball the two times I actually managed to get up to base.But one thing I did do was watch, and I found my eyes sweeping the room at all of my friends and classmates and landing on one boy in particular.That was weird. Lately I had thought about things and seriously decided that I Don't Like Anybody Right Now. That's strange for me. Ever since fourth grade I've pretty much constantly had a crush. It's funny to go about a week or two knowing I don't. But lately ... that streak's gonna get ruined, real fast.'Cause someone was out there and I kept wondering if I was catching his eye {gyms are big. Eyesight not good}. I'd watch him kick the ball and run, and he's a cross-country runner {like the rest of his family} or at least aspiring-to-be and he was pretty dang fast {no wonder he always manages to elude me}. He's one of my good friends, but I managed to not talk to him almost at all today. Sometimes it's best to sit back and watch and let your heart decide, instead of pulling it and, you know, spraining something.

Since I hate putting even nicknames in here, I'm going to tell the messed up love stories of my life with nick-nicknames. Well, not all of them. Because some don't count, like that time kindergarten-age people {like I once was} learn the word "boyfriend" before they learn the word "sixteen". Or "mature" for that matter.Anyway, one of the killers in my world is Lightning. He was bright and brilliant and kind and awesome. He was talented. He was ... like lightning, because I saw him in flashes of my memory of younger years and then came the time that I really wanted to look, but he'd come and gone during my blink. Thus, I miss him a ton. I blame that on the fact that I miss my childhood and all those dreamy days of happiness. He's kind of the figure for it, because it's not like I'm missing anything he was.

That's what Storm is for. Generic. Somehow even though he's so dark everybody is attracted to him. He's not even that cute. But he's super talented in all ways, like art and sports and knowledge, and he's kind of funny too and surprisingly nice. But like storms he's unpredictable and unreliable. Half the time I'm wonderstruck and dancing, but the other half ... well. Rain or snow, sometimes he's cold but sometimes he's warm. You never know.And that's why I'm not so into Storm anymore. It's not just because of what happened That One Time {don't worry it's G-rated, it was basically my overreaction to when he pretended he liked somebody just to provoke somebody else}. It's just ... he's kinda lost his charm on me.Then there's Sunburst, just as bright as his smile. He's athletic, talented, artistic, basically Storm without the darkness. And he's always been there for me, reliable like the sun, right? It's just that sometimes I'm a little tired. Because of that, lately I don't like him too much.And oh sigh, in comes Clouds. Or Sky, or whatever you want to say. He's athletic and funny and nice, but I've yet to find any other thing he's good at. Besides loving music as much as I do {almost maybe}. He's been in the background while all that drama and storminess was happening, but now he's started to come out. And it's just something that you want to stare at. The sky or the clouds, always there but not always noticeable like Sunburst. Dark sometimes, but not so crazy like Storm. And fleeting, but not painfully like Lightning.So that's my weather story, which is like extra code code for the person I like. You can never be too careful.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

So my friend Kyle is one of the people I've known longest. He lives in my neighborhood, he was in my kindergarten class, etc. etc. But somehow he's one of the people I understand least. Or, one of the people I've never been able to get close to.

A few years ago and last year he started out as the Nice Kid. The boy who'd always hold doors open for anybody and things like that without complaining or asking for a reward. He's still nice, but that's just not what he's looked at as. He's kind of weird, I guess. He goes along with everybody, but I've realized that I don't really know him. I know his name, sure, and his face, and the way he high-fives everybody.

But lately he's been sitting in the corner with his back to us at lunch. People have gone up to him. Once, Nash the Persuasive got him to sit with us again. But he's started just coming up to the stairs, sitting down with his back to us, and eating his lunch and leaving quickly. Sometimes he doesn't even go to lunch and I pass him in the hallway and he always finds time to yell my nickname and high-five me. I always high-five him, but sometimes he doesn't see me and doesn't see that I see the absence of a smile on his unprepared face.

I haven't really worried about him until now. Why is he doing that? That's what I've been wondering as of late, during nights when my mind is free to go anywhere it likes. It's just a part of life now that Kyle sits in the corner and leaves, and on the bus he doesn't talk and he's always doing math homework or something-or-other and being quiet. And he's hardly there at the bus stop in the mornings and I don't know what's up.

I walked home with him like I always do, since we get off at the same bus stop. I started talking to him, idle chatter basically, until the question came up.

"Kyle," I said, and looked into his eyes, "Why don't you sit with us at lunch anymore?"

And it was the saddest smile as he glanced away and I had to stare at the snow while his voice played around my ears: "It's just--you see--it's not--I--I feel like you guys are all too cool for me."

I wonder if I sighed, 'cause I might have. "Kyle, everybody feels like that. Especially lately, like I feel like that half the time"--true--"and you should've seen the way Orqua was talking to me two weeks ago. We all feel that. You just ... have to see."

Biting of the lip. Lately he's let his hair get down and almost cover his eyes, and it makes him look shyer and quieter than before.

"Look, people won't talk to you if it seems like you don't want them to," I said.

"I guess that's true."

"Try to sit with us tomorrow."

"Okay."

And I smiled and waved and parted in our usual way {a silly warning like "Don't drown in a bucket!" Actually, I probably said that}. I saw him walk away with his head down out of my window when I got back home, but I smiled to myself because I realize that's what I've been doing. Sitting in my own world waiting for someone to talk to me when I don't start conversations.

Monday, February 11, 2013

This morning was FABULOUS.I was wearing the yellow shirt that makes me happy, plus pants that make me happy, plus shoes that make me happy, plus I was happy. Clothes mean a lot to me. Go vanity! {But seriously, whenever I don't have to worry about my clothes, life is easier. Try it. Unless you're a guy. Don't be weird.}So I got on the bus, and then Liberty did too, and he was wearing his satchel of Liberty that Georgie and I took great pains to create for his birthday. He was sitting a couple of seats away which meant I couldn't talk to him one-on-one, but when he sat down I caught his eye and smiled really wide. Which meant, Hey, thanks for not thinking it was ugly or weird or you know, and I wonder if the red fabric paint still looks pink.I didn't get to check. But it made me smile, and even though the boys took over the conversation and I just sat around like what the heck are you talking about, I kept catching Liberty's eye and smiling. It's nice when someone knows you're watching them and smiles back. Woo!Then I went to school, and classes, and I had fun in band with my fellow flautists. {Is that how you spell it? Floutists? Flutists? Um.} ANYWAYS, English came and went where Seattle sat right behind me and talked and joked with me when we were having that weird recorded country voice telling us Tom Sawyer. During PE I paired up with Sparrow, which was much better than realizing that nobody wanted to be pair up with me. I like taking matters into my own hands ...But I couldn't do much about that at lunch, when I sat with friends and among friends and screamed at Blaund because He is Back. But then, friends and friends left and I was suddenlytheonly

onethere.It felt super awkward and lonely and I just sat there wondering what to do. I took out the gum that August gave me for Christmas. It is special gum, which means I can only take it out for super special occasions and I have to write the date and reason. I know, I know. OCD.So I wrote the date and then I wrote

Lonely again, but pretending to be happy. Which was just depressing, so I left against my wishes to go hide and cry by myself to go to the room where everybody was going to be, because our old English teacher was putting on Lord of the Rings. I didn't see the point of going there if it was just going to be stupid and lonely like it always was.Which, of course, was just my good luck that today was the one day the English teacher didn't put on Lord of the Rings, and my friends had disappeared to who-know's-where. Like when Danica and Hobbs passed me in the hallway at lunch when I was wandering around looking for people, yet they didn't say hi to me even though Hobbs caught my eye. But who can blame them? I've been untouchable lately and kind of dangerous. Who knows how I might explode? Just because I've changed my attitude doesn't mean they did.And that's the reason why I stayed behind with my clarinet sort-of-friend and cut out hearts because she was heart-attacking someone's locker. She didn't ask me to. I wasn't obliged to.But like I said, I changed my attitude. If I put on a happy mask for too long, it might just melt into the real me.(:

Saturday, February 9, 2013

My Mom, now, asks me what I did at Danica's house. I guess it's worth asking. I got there ate like two thirty and I left there at nearly eight. But it was--oh my goodness it was so good. And although I told my mom that we didn't do much, it meant so much to me. 'Cause we just lay there on the floor talking and being punny and laughing and talking about things with wings. We just sat on the couch and I played Halo with Hobbs, which was hilarious 'cause he kept killing me and I kept being super confused but laughing still. We just drew on Hobbs' chalkboard wall, and played with Danica's little sister, and ate candy and sat on Danica's bed in silence and talked about cute baby books and oh my goodness played with toys. But I'm going back there again someday, mind or no. Right now I'm sitting next to Danica with her little sister's arm around me, watching The Happy Family {boys+Barbies=what the heck} on YouTube. Right now I'm, yup, playing Halo.Right now, I'm standing on a fold-up brown chair in Hobbs' room drawing on his wall, and sometimes I'll be writing something and Danica will just stand back and I'll feel her eyes on me. Like next to her picture of Saturn. Tell me, did you sail across the sun? And on the hot air balloon that was the first thing almost that I drew. I'll be out of my mind. And by the grass she said was green. Grass is for sitting, not eating. {Yeah Danica.}And she tells me when I'm drawing stars at the top that I should listen to a song that I haven't found the time for yet. And some of those lyrics ...

Of all the stars out tonightYou shine brighterThen I'll sneak onto her computer to leave her a note in a tab I hope nobody's closed yet. I'll sneak a look at her mirror because there are the two glittery stars that were my crappy Christmas present. We're sitting on the couch watching Phineas and Ferb and I can see her eyes shining brighter than any stars. Her parents drive me home and we chat but she's sucking her lip and I saw the sad smile on her face when I drew a star on my window like I always do, for her. That smile, sweeter than any laundry basket*.*Which, according to Danica, taste like plastic. I have yet to affirm this, because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to lick your friends' laundry baskets.

So I say nothing as we hold our breath and joke about stuff on the way back and I almost forget to lean over and give her a hug. I don't want her to cry because of me. Because I know one thing.Hope is a citrus constellation in the galaxy scratched at the back of both my eyelids that I've been dying to see ... But I guess I've finally opened my eyes. Because there are stars all over Danica's room. My sticky notes are on her wall and so are my drawings and she has a box on the top shelf of my letters and she says that she's got a favorite. I realized something--that these previous nights, I've been crying because I miss things. I miss so much. I missed me. But I'm back now. I'm ready to shine, because I know someone out there will see.

And there are those little promises, too. Those little things I know I can and want to do. Like write Georgie a birthday song. Go skating for my birthday with ALL of my friends. Inside jokes aplenty that Danica, Hobbs and I are going to do on Monday. And someone has to go to China to bring Danica back a star.Not that she isn't one already.

I get to Danica's house and the first thing that happens is that her mom opens the door and calls me Pat. And I smile and laugh and feel at home even if she apologizes that she doesn't know me that well, but that Danica always calls me that.

I think it's awesome. And Danica comes down the stairs and leads me up to her room. We sit talking for a while when the ice breaks and we're in her closet talking about shoes, and I talk about the carpet. Then she's lying down on it and we're both on our tummies with our chins rubbing against the carpet, and suddenly my stomach hurts. Our conversation goes something like this:"Eew Danica, the carpet's eating your face.""Psh, that's okay.""But what if there's ants in it?""Then I'll eat the ants!"Then we start talking about how she's gonna get an anteater to eat her ants and put it in her laundry basket and suddenly we're laughing about how {I don't even know how this happened} in order to eat something, you must ask it out on a date first. Then she brought out her cute plastic clothes hanger and called it a swan with an extra front. I started laughing really hard, and we brought out dolls and pretended they were us and played with our clothes hanger dates, and then she ate hers and mine ran wee wee wee all the way home. 'Cause it was pink ... like a pig, I guess.

Oh, there are so many precious things about tonight. The time flew by. One time we stopped playing with her little sister long enough to do something double-dog daring {what the dog}. Suffice it to say it was Danica's idea, but that I went with it."Let's run outside in the snow without our feet!" she said, laughing 'cause she meant shoes and I knew it. She didn't really mean it but we did anyway, and what started as a short sprint across the lawn turned into a full-out run across her backyard. Which, thankfully even with the crazy falling snow, was just wet. And cold too, but then we finished the backyard and realized we had to cross her front lawn to get back to the door, and aforementioned front lawn was covered in five inches {or more} of snow.My pants were rolled up, but it's not like I cared. I wholeheartedly agreed with her when Danica yelled "MY FEET ARE NUMB!"But they warmed up and we laughed and it was totally worth it. And I'd play hide and seek with her little sister just to hide behind Danica's door to see that my birthday present was still hanging there. So that's the ants, and as we were lying there absorbing the closet floor I realized that we are ants, in this little world where time doesn't have enough of itself to care who we are or what we do. And I thought so what? I don't care anymore and realized that there are some things I don't care about anymore.Like sadness.And for the first time in a long time {or so it seemed} my happy button, which had so far been stuck depressed {see what I did there?}, was jiggled a bit by Danica as we lay on the floor or ran around or shared candy or laughed until our abs surely got strong ... well, that happy button wasn't stuck up anymore.

Since my closet is the strangest and multiplying thing EVER {I swear, my purple shirts numbered one at the beginning of this summer and at the end I had at least, five, and now I have ... holy junk I actually HAVE a blue shirt!!!!}, I have lots of butterfly shirts.

AHEM, excuse me. Butterfly and FLUTTERFLY shirts.

You see, I've got weird friends. That should be evident now. I'm also ... strange. But not weird, right? Airplanes ... okay. Well. Danica has these quirky little things she says and sticks to, like ... flutterflys. Which are written that way, with no ie. So she says butterflies have antennae and flutterflys do not. Which I finally understand now, after those times she'd point them out on my shirt and I would stare at it upside down confusedly.

Anyway, the reason I'm talking about butterflies is that my story of today {my amazing story of today} starts with them. And flutterflys.

I'm wearing this shirt that's really special to me. Not that anything special happened to me in this shirt. Not at the beginning of today, anyway. At the beginning of today it was this shirt that I really loved because it was biggish and soft and it had butterflies on it. I was thinking about them this morning.

They glow in the dark! I thought. Which was stupid, because that brought me back to the time I was in a glow in the dark skating rink and bad things happened {this involves a boy. Further details will be omitted}.

But this morning, I was just feeling really bleh. I had to wake up at six for a Mathcounts competition that my sister was coaching, and since I am an Asian person, gee great, I get dragged into lots of math-related things. By parents. But sometimes they pay off. Like today.

You'll see.

{Or read. I'm bad at this.}

So I was feeling bad, because even though last night was one of them nights I DIDN'T cry myself to sleep {been doing that a lot lately. It's sticky} I was still feeling sore somewhere inside and, you know, like

ISSUEISN'T IDEAL

but not like I was actually going to make that happen anyway. I promise, I like living. Anyhoo, I was not having a good start to the day. Plus, after Mathcounts I wanted to go to Danica's house, but my parents would not let me 'cause my mom thought I'd starve. So I ate a big breakfast. AKA a couple of rolls. Lately breakfast is not nearly as big as it used to be.

So, we drove up to this high school for the competition with our team members, and we started doing math. The thing is, I actually wasn't even nervous. I treated it like "Well what the freaking heck" because I wasn't so excited about doing Mathcounts, right? So I did it indifferently and not nervous at all.

Then they came out with a list for the top 9, who would compete for another trophy, and I

was

first.

I was like holy crap, 'cause there was this one sixth grader who was much smaller and younger than me who was my friend, but on a different team and much smarter. Turns out though ... I beat him. By one place, but ... I beat him. And it was a little nice knowing that, hey, my team got first too and we're going to state, and I'm a member of this team and I ... matter.

Thus, I immediately upon finishing the competition and getting my weird pointy trophies, I called Danica with permission and got her address and knew I was going to be at her house soon, so I leaned back and watched the snow and smiled knowingIwaslookingforward.

Friday, February 8, 2013

This morning, I slipped when I walked down the hill to my bus stop. But that was okay 'cause I caught myself.

I'm not ready to fall, and I certainly don't want to.

So why does everything seem so pointless? This is the worst depression I've ever gotten into, and I'm so sad and I don't even know why. I was thinking about it this morning. It's not sad like those times I see Seattle and know he doesn't like me. It's not sad like the way some people look at me. It's not sad like not having a good book to read, or being late for school {not that I've ever done that} or any other kind of heartbreak.

It's me.

This morning I did a lap around my school, even though I was scared of the darkness at the back of it. I ran and ran and ran and was hardly out of my breath, but my heart was racing and I stood there singing.

Last night, I dug my baby blanket out from the closet in my parents' room. It's been folded neatly there since I put it away this summer. It was the softest thing in the world and I used to fall asleep with my hands rubbing it because it was nice to know something was that sweet and mine. But it got tattered ad I was so scared of ruining it that I put it away. But sometimes you gotta take a chance, so I brought it out because I needed it.

I cried last night so hard, but it hurt even more knowing that I had to take measured breaths and muffle myself in my baby blanket and pillow because my sister was still awake on the bottom of the bunkbed beneath me. This morning I wished I could cry, but sometimes the fake smile is natural because you don't want anybody to really see ... you want them to try to see.

I ran more, too. I ran away from Nash and Danica, Seattle and Orqua, friends and friends and friends and friends and nobody put their arm around me 'cause nobody knows how much I'm not

all

right

and so I ran, and in Science I wrote in my journal to pass the time and my gum reserved for special occasions is running out and the snow splattered like rain against my face and I wanted so much for something to run to.

But I tore my prayers out of my notebook and gave them to Danica and I ran ran ran but she caught up and caught my shoulders in a hug from behind and slipped me a note and I almost cried reading it.

Youalwayshitmyheartintheperfectplace.

So how come no matter how many times I try to reach my own, it's broke?